


I'm On My Way Home

by Puregold



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Drunkenness, Emetophobia, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maxpres, New York City, Preston pukes but it aint graphic, Rejection, Theater Rejection, They live in NYC together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12441960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puregold/pseuds/Puregold
Summary: Preston Goodplay didn't receive a call back after his most recent audition. Again. All the rejection he was facing in what was supposed to be the glamorous theater kid city of New York was starting to take it's toll on him. Maybe he wasn't a good actor? Or a writer? Or dancer or singer? Maybe he wasn't as good as he thought. Are his dreams hopeless?Max reminds him of who he really is.





	I'm On My Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an actor and a writer and facing numerous rejections fucking SUCKS so uhh have this.

I sat at the bar of the local gay club, drinking down my Shirley Temple and choking back tears. So what if I didn't get a call back? So what if the number of rejections I've received have tallied up to 22 since I've moved here already? So what if Max and I can barely support ourselves and we're making minimum wage while we're holding out for my "big break" that's never gonna come? Whatever! I've been told that pursuing a career in acting was gonna be tough since the moment I decided that it would be my profession. But I've also been called a tremendous actor by numerous people in my life, it's just that they weren't casting a show or a play. But who cares? The audience are the ones I'm supposed to impress!

A sudden dread fills me as I order another drink. What if this was all a mistake? Maybe I wasn't meant to be an actor. And if so that meant I've just fucked up majorly by moving here and trying to pursue, and I've dragged Max down with me. He's the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. He swept me off my feet and saved me from an abusive relationship, and now we're gonna go down in a ball of flame.

I feel a tap on my shoulder as I sip back my 3rd drink, and I turn to see a college-aged guy smile at me and wink. "What are you doing here all alone, cutie? Care to dance?"

"I have a boyfriend." I reply bluntly before returning to my drink.

He doesn't seem to get the hint. "Well, it's not like he's here right now. Besides, you're just sitting here moping at the bar. Dancing would pick your mood right up for sure!"

"I don't want to." I reply, more firmly this time. "Leave me alone."

I get a phone call and he seems to take _that_ as his cue to leave, rather than my blatant rejecting of him. For a second I get excited, hoping that it _is_ the call back I've been waiting for, only to see Max's name appear on my screen. Disappointment swells in my chest. Not because it's Max, but because I'm going to have to tell him about my most recent failure.

"Hey, babe. Tell me the news! Did ya get in?" He asks, and I have to take a deep breath.

"No. I'm a failure and probably shouldn't have ever decided to become an actor." I reply, and halfway through the sentence I start to sob, covering my mouth and wiping at my eyes with my scarf as not to disturb other club patrons.

"What? You're not a failure. Preston, are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm at Mamajamba. Over on 56th avenue. It's fine, I can walk home. It's not like I wanna be a loser crying in the club anyway." I say, slurring my words through sniffles and sobs.

"I'll meet you halfway. You sound drunk and I don't want you walking home alone drunk and crying." He says, and then. "I love you and you're not a failure."

"Yeah, right." I reply spitefully before hanging up and making my way out the club. I start the trek back home, stumbling and wiping at my eyes, my vision blurry.

I wonder if my gramma is looking down at me right now from the stars, and shaking her head at the mess of a grandson she's raised. I wonder if all my family sees me that way, since they're all gone now anyway. The only people I have are Max, the campers and the counselors from that shitty stupid scam camp 10-odd years ago. Maybe I could run away and kill myself. They'd get over it.

Despite my best efforts, I can't stop crying. So rather than being the loser crying in the club, I'm the weirdo stumbling home and sobbing openly into my hands. At one point, as I round the corner to my street, I trip on the curb and fall. I'm so fucking dizzy and miserable that all I can do is sit up and cry, peering out of my blurry eyes to see if I can find Max.

What's probably only a minute later but feels like an eternity passes, and I hear Max shouting my name before coming to my side and holding my hand. "Oh, god, Preston. Are you okay? Can you get up?"

I just shrug, leaning into him and grabbing his shoulders weakly for support as he helps me to my feet and drags my sobbing, drunk ass home. "Hey, it's okay. I love you."

He keeps saying shit like that as he unlocks the door to our tiny apartment and helps me inside. I feel sick, so instead of vomiting all over and damaging the wood floors I stumble my way to the bathroom with Max's help and sit by the toilet. He's so damn sweet, holding my hair back when I puke and giving me wet wash clothes and a water bottle to wash all the sickness out. 20 minutes later and I'm fine, though dizzy with tear-stained eyes.

"What... Happened?" He asks before helping me to my feet and bringing me over to the living room couch.

"Nothing." I reply, knowing that he's probably thinking the worst. "Just my self-loathing ass realizing that I've doomed the both of us to a life of disappointment and poverty."

"The hell are you talking about? Nobody's doomed here." He says, sitting beside me and offering me an advil to swallow and a mint to take.

"I _mean_ all I've been facing are rejections and I'm a shitty actor but I thought I'd be good so I moved here an went to college here but I fuckin' dragged you down with me and now we're fucked because I suck an I'm never gonna get the big break that we both are waiting for." I say, and start crying again halfway through my ramblings.

He rubs my back and hugs me, and I continue through drunken, exhausted delirium. "All my families dead an I'm disappointing them all from heaven. All I'm doing is leeching onto you an all our other _friends_ so that I'm not fuckin' alone. I'm an idiot." I seethe.

"None of that is true whatsoever, Preston. And you better be fuckin' listening to me 'cause you know I'm not one to bullshit." He says, holding me close and stroking my hair. "You are good, and funny, and passionate, and I love you. We all love you and care about you Preston and you are not a _leach_ , okay? Lots of actors face rejection. Lots of _great_ actors face a _lot_ of rejection. You're only 20, you're not a failure and it's not too late or whatever. It's okay. You're okay."

I sniffle, hiccuping and crying into his hoodie and it's probably gross but he's not pushing me away. Instead he's rubbing my back and stroking my hair, and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. My granny died senior year of high school, and he let me live with him and David. He held my hand at the funeral. He's so good and he's always been so good to me, and I love him so much it hurts.

Once I've calmed down, he kisses my head and lowers his voice. "I want you to say that you're okay, you're not a leach, and you are loved. Okay?"

I take a deep breath, before closing my eyes and saying, "I'm okay, I'm not a leach, and I'm loved."

"Perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> Also Preston got alcohol at the age of 20 cuz he's got a fake ID and the bartender thought he was attractive.


End file.
